She walked alone down the dark street, the night wind biting at her exposed flesh despite her heavy, faux-furred coat. She pulled the mass of fibers closer around her shoulders and hastened her stride. The click-clack sound of her stiletto pumps on the concrete sidewalk created the only disturbance amidst the eerily silent urban setting.
Downtown Milwaukee was strangely empty this evening, despite the golden- haired woman's attempt at picking up business in what had always been hotspots. She had been waiting at seedy street corners for what seemed to be eons to no avail – apparently tonight all of Wisconsin's cocks were happily flaccid, all the fat businessmen on their way home in the chilly twilight intent on returning to their June Cleaver and Carol Brady wives.
Where there's a will, there's a way, the woman known only as Delilah reassured herself. She turned down another street corner. The lights from the bar – her last resort – illuminated the darkness like a beacon to a lost sailor. Hopefully many lost sailors would be inside so Delilah would be able to afford that Louis Vuitton purse she had been eyeing at Neiman Marcus.
With the click of her stilettos she entered the small pub, the wind whisking her long, scarlet curls out behind her. It was a chilly night, Delilah mused. Which was strange, as it was in the middle of summer.
She eyed the man – her target – like a lioness does her prey. He was older, but with a full set of shiny silver hair. He was tall – like Delilah herself was – and finicky. He appeared nervous as he sipped at what appeared to be a martini on the rocks, dry, and with an olive.
This place was classy, Delilah always seemed to notice – the johns she picked up here were often times rich business elite, CEOs, doctors, or lawyers. This man was no exception, she surmised, judging from his freshly-pressed pinstripe suit.
"Hi there handsome," she whispered, her voice sultry and seductive as she swung one garter-and-hoed leg over the stool next to him.
The man, probably in his early forties, jumped then turned to her, her heavy perfume filling up his nostrils.
"Uh, h-hi there..." he replied, his voice throaty as he stared at the beautiful woman beside him. "Can I h-help you?"
"Aw baby..." Delilah smiled, leaning over dangerously close. "I think we both know why I'm here." She leaned back, exposing her expansive bosom, a gold necklace with a star charm dangling in her cleavage. She ran a neatly manicured finger down her velvet bustier. "I'm the angel sent to rescue you from whatever problems you got, darlin'."
The man almost blushed, but managed to catch himself. "O-oh... You're a-a- a..."
"I'm a companion, gorgeous. Do you have a name?"
He cleared his throat, trying to gain his composure. "Nelson."
"Nelson... That's cute. Well, I'm Delilah. And I'm all yours, if you're up for it." It was almost standard operating procedure for the woman known as Delilah. The lines she spoke, the body language she evoked, the sex appeal she emitted. It was all a weapon that she wielded masterfully. As usual, it was working as Nelson smiled stupidly, staring into Delilah's blazing emerald eyes.
"I've got the money," Nelson stated, almost proudly.
"And I've got the goods, darlin'."
Delilah whispered the going rate in Nelson's ear as he removed a quartet of one hundred dollar bills from his wallet. He held them in his hand and Delilah grasped his wrist, guiding it down towards her garter. He slid the bills under the elastic band and the pair rose to their feet. Delilah shook the picture of an attractive blonde and three young kids she had found in his billfold from her mind. It was about this time that the guilt always kicked in – but, just like always, it subsided as the pair made their way to the cheap motel across the street. Despite his initially demure and modest demeanor, Nelson was wild between the sheets. By the time they were done, Delilah's loins were on fire and it was almost six in the morning.
He rose slowly out of the bed, standing in all his naked glory before her. "I think I had better get home."
And I think I need a shower, Delilah told herself as she ran a hand through her beautiful blonde locks. She felt his soft kisses on her bare shoulder as she rose to her feet.
"We can go again – but that'll cost ya, handsome."
"Well then – I guess I should probably leave before—"
"Before your kids wake up?" Delilah finished for him.
"Y-Yes. How did you know?"
"Magic," Delilah smiled, tapping her forehead. "Get going, man. You're hardly the first dude I've fucked that had to get home before his wife got up."
Nelson nodded and walked to the door, his Armani loafers in his hand. "T- Thank you."
"My pleasure – look me up again."
He closed the door silently, as if the realization of what he did was just now coming to clarity. Delilah felt no remorse for Mr. Nelson. He wasn't strong enough to resist his sexual tendencies. Too bad for him. His weakness was her benefit. It was a game of survival of the fittest, and there was no way she'd be on the losing side.
Delilah turned on the shower and stepped in. The water felt warm on her skin as it dripped through her long mane, plastering her hair like long tendrils along her back.
In a matter of twenty minutes, the place was tidy despite the scent of sex. Delilah slid her feet into her high heels and made her way out the door. Shrugging the fur coat onto her shoulders she made her way around a corner back to where she had parked her car. She glanced at the dark green bills in her handbag with a smile. Another successful day...that Louis Vuitton purse didn't look too far off after all.
Delilah slid her key into the lock of her Taurus and stepped into the vehicle. She started the car and was off quickly, speeding out of the dimly lit parking lot onto the interstate. Reaching into her purse she removed a cigarette and pressed it to her red lips. Taking a puff she turned onto the feeder and headed towards her apartment on the outskirts of downtown. It was only a temporary residence, and she was staying with a girlfriend… and fellow prostitute. In all honesty, Delilah had grown attached to both her friend and the quaint little abode as she turned into the parking lot. Her eyes were heavy, and not due to the prominent eye paint. She stifled a yawn as she pulled into a spot next to her friend's car. Glancing at the car clock before she pulled the key out of the ignition, she found it to be 6:32.
Opening the car door, Delilah planted one stiletto-heeled foot on the concrete. Then, she heard the noises. She made sure to exit the car quietly. The sounds chilled her blood and sent rigors up her spine. It was the sound of rhapsody in demise. The gurgling of blood and ripping noise of chewing danced into her ears as Delilah slowly made her way up a walkway into the complex. Her apartment was just mere doors away, but the sounds kept coming – scaring the living shit out of her. But, alas, something was amiss. Delilah formed a fist with her left hand, one of the sharp keys from the chain protruding from between her index and middle finger like a makeshift knife.
The sounds were closer now, just around the corner. Mustering up her nerve and inhaling slowly, Delilah rounded the bend. What she saw left her speechless and dumbfounded; for a second she forgot how to breathe. Pivoting on the spike of her heel, Delilah ran back around the corner.
Two corpses were eating a man.
Delilah went pale and began dry heaving. Finally she vomited all over the concrete. By then, she finally noticed that the noises had stopped.
Knowing good and well that whoever or whatever those... things were that were doing that had heard her, Delilah dashed to her door and slid her key in the lock. She threw it open and rushed inside. Slamming the door, she then locked it and ran towards the kitchen to pick up the phone. Her knees almost gave out as she clasped the plastic of the telephone, and she fell into the wall.
"Delilah – what the hell is going on?"
Delilah jumped at the voice and turned, her key-knife outstretched as she prepared to instill death.
"Oh god, Mel. Something is outside – someone's dead... Someone's fucking dead!"
"'Lilah – hold up, hold up. What do you mean?" Mel's eyes were cloudy, having just been ripped from her sleep by the noise of her roommate coming back home. She ran a hand through her disheveled brown hair.
"They were eating him, Mel!"
"Delilah, were you out drinking tonight?" Mel inquired as she walked back into the living room and collapsed on the couch.
"Fucking no! I saw it!"
"I wanna go look!" Mel declared, unlocking the door.
"NO! Lock the damn door back, Mel!" Delilah looked away as she dialed 9-1-1.
"This is 911 - Mona speaking. Please state your emergency."
"These dudes are eating a man right outside of my apartment!"
"Excuse me?"
"Please hurry – I think the man's dead but you've gotta hurry, lady."
"Certainly, I'm sending dispatch now."
"I'm at the Maple Spring apartments, that's off of Interstate—"
Delilah was interrupted as the door burst opened, sending Mel into a flying heap on the floor. What stood in the threshold was an image epitomizing death, destruction, and bloodlust. The man standing before the two women was what was left of an air conditioning repair man named Donny, as the sewn-in name tag over his left breast indicated. He had a gaping wound from his neck and multiple bite marks along his arms. Blood flowed freely out of his mouth, puss festering along his open lacerations. He roared from side to side as the masticated human being lunged forward, right on top of Mel.
Mel screamed as she squirmed on the floor, feeling the zombie's teeth sink into her upper breast. He ripped flesh and cloth from her nightshirt away as he pulled his head back, screaming again. His eyes were yellow, dead, empty.
Mel screamed again as her lifeblood spilled out beneath her on the hardwood floor. Donny sunk his teeth into her shoulder as Mel's body shuddered and her eyes rolled back into her head. Delilah screamed hysterically, dropping the phone. Mona continued humming in response as the blonde bombshell dropped it, letting it dangle by the cord.
"MEL!" Delilah shrieked as the zombie pulled away. Donny rose to his full height, fresh blood spilling down his chin in rivulets. He darted forward, intent on Delilah, fueled on by hunger and the prospect of a second meal.
Delilah screamed again, and dashed into her bedroom. She slammed into a cheap dresser, the wind flying from her lungs as she kicked the door closed. She scoured her room, searching for anything she could use to defend herself against that man – whatever the hell he was.
The door burst into splinters as a head busted through the wood. Delilah hefted the lamp standing next to her bed and slammed it into Donny's forehead – sending him sprawling back into the hallway. Suddenly, another figure joined the fray.
"Mel! You're alive!" Delilah wheezed. "Wait, what the – FUCK!"
The woman that was once Mel rushed through the door. Delilah dashed over her bed, smacking hard into the wall. She groaned as Mel snarled at her, blood flying from her mouth onto Delilah's face. Delilah screamed as she felt the force of her friend jump onto her body, slamming her even harder against the wall.
Delilah thrashed outward, her hand smacking Mel in the forehead. The female fell backwards as Donny rose to his feet and leapt over the bed. Delilah dashed to her left, teetering atop her stilettos, and came to stand before a large window that overlooked the courtyard beyond. Because it was her only option left, this being emphasized by the blood-thirsty roars from Donny and Mel, Delilah covered her face with her heavy fur jacket and jumped forwards, exploding through the glass window like a bullet.
Delilah landed hard and rolled onto her side, coming to rest by a fountain. She looked back, golden curls whipping about her face. Donny was stepping through the shattered window frame, halfway out of the apartment. Delilah regained her footing, then turned and bolted, her keys in hand.
With tears streaming down her face, she sprinted along what seemed to be infinite sidewalks. Everywhere there were screams. She saw one woman leap from her third story apartment and land in a bloody heap along the concrete pathway behind Delilah. An ambulance rolled into the parking lot, but she didn't stop. They were still behind her. She ran past a tree, her Taurus in clear view.
Rummaging through her keys as she jumped onto the pavement next to the car, she looked behind her. Mel and Donny had abandoned their chase and were feasting on the paramedics that exited the ambulance. Somewhere behind her there was an explosion but Delilah didn't stop. She put the car in gear and slammed on the gas. She exploded out of the lot, pandemonium and destruction behind her.
But it was just the beginning.